If We Kissed
by Sound Of A Crescendo
Summary: While hospitalized after the accident, Angelina receives an unexpected visitor. Anne/Vince


**Title:** If We Kissed  
**Fandon:** Kuroshitsuji  
**Theme:** Forbidden  
**Pairing: **Vincent/Angelina  
**Summary:** While hospitalized after the accident, Angelina receives an unexpected visitor.  
**Author Notes:** I know its not my usual pairing. But, I decided to try something different. The thought of Anne and Vince having something more is rather interesting, I think! Enjoy.

_What would happen if we kissed?  
Would your tongue slip past my lips?  
Would you run away?  
Would you stay?  
Or would I melt into you?  
Mouth to mouth, lust to lust,  
Spontaneously combust_

_The room is spinning out of control.  
You act like you didn't notice, brushed my hand.  
Forbidden fruit, ring on my finger.  
You're such a moral mortal man.  
Would you throw it away? No question.  
Will I pretend I'm innocent?_

**If We Kissed,****Meredith Brooks**

Sleep was hard to come by lately. Weather if it was because she was sleeping with in the very walls of hospital she had operated with in, or the over whelming pain that throbbed in a place where anesthetics could never reach-- she would never know. There was never silence in a hospital, for somewhere in the darkness of the night would come the running of feet or the suffering cry of a patient. She hadn't slept in five days, even if her eyes would close... she could still see the face of horrified, blood stained face of her husband.

Thankfully, her status had earned her one of the more private rooms. Alas, with that privacy came plenty of solitude. She cried little, surprisingly. It was instead the mournful expression with in those scarlet eyes that often startled most of the younger staff, those that knew not the pain that loosing a child you had carried for half of the full term could bring. They had already picked a name, already invested in the odd piece of clothing here and there-- a lot of them gifts from her family.

Family. Her sister visited often, but Rachel's visits had slowly grew a nest of envy with in the scarlet women. Her sister had had everything. The man Anne loved, the child of that man, the ability to /have/ children... and the list continued on. Rachel's visits were very taxing for the young doctor, mostly because she needed to pretend like everything was okay. Smiling was the hardest.

Thankfully, Rachel had called in the afternoon to say she wouldn't be visiting this evening. Anne had surprised herself with the relief that flooded her when the nurse had informed of the news. She'd actually thanked the girl, whom was surprised. Anne wasn't the best patient, either because of her accident or the fact she herself was quite particular about her care due to being a doctor.

So here the scarlet women laid, relishing in the fact she spared from her sisters upbeat attitude and painful chatter about her child. Bless his soul, Anne loved Ciel. But when one had lost their own child, never to know their face-- she would have appreciated if Rachel kept quiet about Ciel this, and Ciel that. Anne knew however that it was Rachel's way of showing she cared. Under all that negative emotion she truly loved her sister. She could just get a little much to handle sometimes.

At first, Angelina didn't notice the heavy footsteps in the distance. She had allowed her thoughts to travel from resentment of her sister, and the sullen thought of the fact she could never bear a child. How dissolute. She had been sure, had it herself operating on a patient in her situation... she could have saved the womb. So many techniques she would have tried before giving up. But she knew the doctor whom took up the operation was not the hospitals obstetrics surgeon. She was. Thus they had been up shit creek with what to do.

Amidst the dark thoughts of what she might do if she seen that Doctor, the door to her room would suddenly creek open. Scarlet eyes flashed open, and she turned to glance towards the door with a curious expression. Her face slowly drained at the man that silhouetted that door frame.** "Angelina?" **A smooth voice questioned, as if he hadn't recognized the broken women laying on that bed. **"You look terrible."** He commented softly, concern clear along those dark eyes.

**"Thanks."** Angelina commented dryly, earning a brief laugh from the man. Deciding that the ice was broken, the man slowly nudged the door closed with his heel. Stepping forward he would approach the bed with a much more serious expression.

**"How are you holding up..?"** Vincent ventured, settling those soulful eyes onto his sister in law. That look... even with all the pain throbbing with in her heart, could cause her to become flustered.

**"I..."** There was a pause, and perusal Anne had to compose herself before attempting to speak with the man. **"... I'm doing just fine. Everything's almost healed, I should be out in time for--"** She paused abruptly as a warm hand enclosed around her smaller one. She hadn't realized how cold her fingers were, until his own wrapped around them.

**"I mean, how are you /really/ doing."** Vincent whispered, and Anne was for a moment lost to gaze upwards into those eyes. They pierced her own, pinning her under the weight of his question. The strength of it settled on her chest, the pressure causing her breathing to strangely become much harder.

**"Why... are you here, Vincent."** Angelina asked suddenly, tearing her gaze away from his own. Her voice could no longer hold the pain with in it, his very gaze ripping down the walls she had built up against the event**. "Rachel sent you, didn't she?"** At this a strange look came over the earl's face, and he seemed to look rather hurt? Ann would never catch that look, but she heard it in his words.

**"I'm here for you, Angelina. And No, Rachel doesn't know I'm here."** Vincent whispered out, fingers tightening gently around the women's. **"I thought you could someone to talk too..."** He ventured, seeming almost hesitant now. Almost as if he was unsure himself why he was truly here. Anne slowly looked back to him, a pail lip captured between her teeth. Why did he had to be so compassionate? Why did he even have to come? She didn't want to think about this any more-- she just wanted to forget about it all. But there he was, clearly stepping out of his own comfort level to try sooth her. But, something in his words had confused her.

**"Rachel talks enough."** Anne would murmur, watching that graceful mouth pick up in a soft expression.

**"...about all the wrong things."** The Earl commented softly, growing pleased that he had actually earned a laugh from the scarlet women. **"But, seriously Angelina--"**

**"Call me Anne." **

There was a sudden pause, and Angelina seemed to realize with in this break of conversation that she had indeed given him permission to refer to her on a much more casual title. The notion seemed to cause the Earl's expression to soften, and he started again**. "Seriously Anne-" **a brief pause, as if he needed to get comfortable with the nickname. **"-...how are you doing?"** The word had not surprised her this time, but instead she had nothing to hide behind. He had caught her between the unfamiliar territory, and with nothing to protect herself she was left to look away from him again.

**"I'm alrigh--"** A shadow descended onto her, and before she realized what was happening warm fingers hand curled under her chin. She was staring up into those dark eyes, disappointment apparent in their depths from her lies**. "I..."** She stuttered here, expression surely flushing under the soft caress of his thumb over her cheek. He smelled richly like musk, a strangely masculine aroma that made her dizzy**. "...it hurts."** She croaked out weakly, watching sorrow blossom into his eyes. Pity however, she did not desire. Unable to bring herself to remove his touch, she would close her eyes against him. Body seeming to shiver at the thoughts he had caused to come rushing down onto her. **"...it hurts like I c-can't even explain."** Anne continued, needing to pause mid-sentence to collect enough air to continue. As he softly brushed that finger along her cheek, her last barrier would shatter. _Why. Why had she settled to marry a man she didn't love. Why. Why hadn't she gotten to marry Vincent? Why._ She was crying now and could feel the tears burning over her skin.

Somewhere with in that self-pity, she opened those eyes again. As if she wanted to show him what he had made her collapse into. As if to ask him if this was what he wanted. But all she seen was the empty room before her-- he had moved behind her. She startled when his weight sunk into the bed next to her, and would have jerked straight out of the bed if his arms had not curled around her. What was he doing!? She turned, trying not to tear the stitches holding her stomach together. Her face however would meet with the freshly ironed fold of his tunic, and Vincent seemed very content to ease himself back onto her pillows**. "Shhh..."** He whispered out, those warm fingers sliding ever so gently down her back.

Vincent himself felt rather foolish, pulling a grown women to his chest like a child. Like he had done in the past to sooth the fears of his son. However there was something so... torn in Angelina's expression that it had hurt him deeper then any tears his son had ever cried. Here was true suffering-- the form of a feisty women left in pieces by the cruel hand of faith**. "Just let it out."** He continued to whisper to her, feeling that small frame shudder against his own. He could see the shock on her expression, but watched as she suddenly seemed to give into his administrations. As her fingers wrapped into his jacket he could feel a patch of skin growing wet under his clothing from the tears-- this didn't feel so foolish to him anymore. Convinced he had made the right move when she buried her head into him, he would continued to stroke his fingers over her hair and then down her back. The touch was soothing, and when combined with warmth of his body her own the tears eventually subsided. Angelina remained close to him however, not even focusing on the fact of who it was now. There was too much pain to worry about the fact he was the one who was holding her close.

**"...I never wanted to live my life like this."** Angelina started, not truly realizing she was voicing the thoughts in her head to him now. With a soft voice, muffled against his chest she would continue. **"I always thought... I'd grow old, with daughters to look after me. I thought... I'd get to hear the laughter of children that... that were my own.... I wanted to have a son, who could play with Ciel..." S**he swallowed heavily here, and only the fingers that glided over her shoulders seemed enough to keep her grounded.

**"Life will never turn out how we want it, Anne."** He whispered out, eyes sliding closed as he bowed his head. **"But its how we make the most of we get that matters."** While he didn't confidently feel these words would help her... he needed to say something. He had opened this can of worms, but only because he knew the front this bold women wore. He knew the soft child she had been, and was very much aware that part of her was merely hidden now. He had seen it in her eyes the moment he walked into the room.

His would wife came home talking about how strong Angelina was for surviving that accident and how well she was taking the death of her child and husband-- but the Earl had a strange feeling in the pit of stomach. Laying here, holding this once proud women to his chest... he was very glad he had listened to it. He wondered briefly how this would affect their relationship, if she would grow uncomfortable with him-- it wasn't exactly the gentlemen thing to do. Yet, Angelina did not argue in the least. Something about the way her slender frame fit against his own seemed natural.

As if sensing his train of thought, Angelina slowly lifted her head. Those scarlet strands pooling down the sides of her face and gathering on his chest. He tilted his head back slowly, trying to accommodate the small space between them to glance at her. So close he could feel the breath off her lips, and count the bloodshot vessels in her eyes. He slowly lifted a hand, cupping the side of her face**. "What is it..?"** He questioned, wondering about the confused expression on her face.

**"Why..?"** Anne ventured, swallowing slowly as she gazed into those dark eyes. They held so many emotions, many of which she couldn't even decipher**. "...why what?"** Vincent echoed, stroking that thumb along her cheek slowly. Why indeed Angelina. He thought, studying those scarlet orbs. _'Don't ask me why it would happen to you...'_ He pleaded mentally to himself.

**"Why did you come here..."** Anne questioned, slowly tilting her head to the side. Vincent released a breath he hadn't known to be holding, watching the air stir those strands around her face. As he softly brushed her hair back into place, he contemplated that answer. He had come here for her. To offer condolences, to offer support... He had come here because he knew exactly what it was like to loose what you wanted most.

**"Because, Anne..."** He started. **"...you're very important to this family."** He breathed out, deeming that she must have been content as she bowed her head slowly and rested it against his chest once again.

**"Thank you..."** She whispered, thoroughly glad once again for her sister's lack of visiting today.

Silence grew between them, but it was nothing uncomfortable. Vincent's fingers softly caressing over her hair and down the back of her gown. Herself completely soothed into his care and holding onto him like he could be next to vanish on her. Around them, the setting sun had slowly filled the sky with brilliant shades of vibrant orange and pinks. Vincent's eyes would slide to theses colors, watching as they mixed together with in the clouds. He observed the moon parting from the sky as it darkened to red. This fiery shade reminded him of the women in his arms. He glanced back down at her, noting the steady rise and fall over her chest. **"Anne...?"** He questioned, but only silence would greet him. Try as he might, the younger would not rise; exhaustion pulling her under for a long needed sleep.

He dared not move, not quite yet. She would surely waken if he tried to leave right away. Instead, he would merely shift his weight and stretched himself out beside her, rather then under her. It was easier to see her face now, and much easier to brush a kiss over her sleeping lips. **"...and you're very important to me."** He whispered.

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